of
all. To the marriage of true hearts and bodies, as well as that of true
minds, she would not admit impediment. But--she realised that for the
man and woman of her day to enter upon such a marriage was also to enter
upon a _Via Crucis_. The massive, sometimes crushing, weight of such a
yoke was not to be accepted in any light, joyous spirit of newly kindled
passion. Over the gateway of that stern temple of love was written the
implacable, well-nigh impossible mandate of the Delphian Oracle, "Know
thyself."

Moreover, in her view of the question, the man and woman who would
enter on such an engagement must be quite free from certain
ties--pre-eminently the tie binding a mother to her children. The
Marchesa admitted the forsaking of all in the world for a great
love--except the child that a woman had borne into the world.

Marco, despite his luckless marriage, from which as an Italian he could
not with dignity escape--(both he and she scorned the idea of his
becoming naturalised in another country in order to obtain a divorce
there)--Marco she considered free to form a new and serious relationship
if he so desired. Therefore, it was not the question of the possible
irregularity of his future relations with Sophy that dismayed her; it
was that she did not consider Sophy free. She had her son. Never would
she receive as Marco's wife the woman who had deserted her child for
him. But then, merely glimpsing Sophy as she had done, she felt
instinctively that she was incapable of such an act.

Remained then only the possibility of a dark tragedy of unavailing love,
and the odious quagmire of scandal.

And thinking as she did, and knowing that her son was well aware of her
opinions, this "_Grazie_" ("Thanks") of Marco's hurt her deeply. It
seemed to say: "I am glad that at least you do me that much justice."

It was she, however, who broke the silence that followed.

"I shall not allude to this subject again," she said, rising. "This once
I felt that I had to speak--no matter how much I hurt or offended
you--only this once----"

"_Prego, prego, Maman!_" he murmured in a colourless voice.

"Yes, that I had to do," continued his mother firmly; "for, as I said,
there is no issue. Mrs. Chesney has her son. Should you ever care for
her--should she ever care for you--her son stands between you. If she
were to desert her boy for you--she would not deserve your love. If you
wanted her to desert him--you would not deserve hers-